


The Desert Sun

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Character Study, F/F, Femslash, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Homesickness, Loneliness, Male-Female Friendship, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Queer Themes, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-09 01:08:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5519849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Rey dreams of sun-kissed skin and laughing eyes, of hot, gentle air fluttering against her skin and the sun’s clever fingers running through her hair. She wakes on the Resistance base, lonely and cold. Outside, the rain patters on the roof."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Desert Sun

**Author's Note:**

> With this fic, I tried to explore Rey's character. Loneliness thus features prominently, as do themes of heat and sand, of interpersonal relationships, and of Rey's uncertainty and fear. I felt that exploring Rey's character also lent to exploring queerness and love between women, things that will come up in this chapter and - if I end up writing more - in subsequent chapters as well.

***

One of Rey’s fondest memories is of a woman. She is blazing, radiant, with large dark eyes and a full, soft smirk. She is a trader and the most beautiful thing Rey has ever seen. She wears deep red paint on her lips, sharp outlines drawn against her pale skin. Rey admires her from afar, watching as she stops in town to gather supplies and exchange goods.

One early morning, when the sun is but a thin sliver on the horizon, she runs into the woman at the watering hole. Her name, Rey learns, is Vleen Rohana, and she is an arms dealer. She’s on Jakku for a few weeks, come to salvage parts to outfit her ship.

Vleen. It rings in her mouth like sweet cider.

Vleen is sharp words and perspicacious smiles, sinuous hands and cavernous laughs. Her grin is diamonds and her hair is gold, both brighter than anything Rey has ever touched, untarnished by Jakku’s tawny dusts. Rey is infatuated.

Vleen is the first woman to kiss her. She presses burning closed-mouth breaths to the corners of Rey’s lips, smiles gentle caresses into the hollows of Rey’s throat.

Before she leaves, the woman gives her a tube of red for her lips, presses it into Rey’s hand like a secret and tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

Rey keeps it in her room with other knick-knacks she has gathered over the years. Sometimes, when she’s very lonely, she opens the tube, smells the soft perfume and remembers the feeling of the woman’s lips against hers.

She has experiences with other strangers after that, night-time trysts and awkward fumblings.

Still, the tube of red stands proudly by her pillow. 

***

Rey dreams of sun-kissed skin and laughing eyes, of hot, gentle air fluttering against her skin and the sun’s clever fingers running through her hair. She wakes on the Resistance base, lonely and cold. Outside, the rain patters on the roof.

She climbs out of bed, joints stiff and unfamiliar, finds her way to the hangar and climbs up through the rafters. Rey settles in a tight alcove, gazing out the slippery-cool window at the grey, grey sky. It is wet and cold, the late summer rains bringing with them an ever-present chill. She did not think she would ever miss Jakku, but in the dampness of an early morning, her stomach clenches with homesickness.

She is perched in her spot watching fat droplets of rain race down the glass when a voice startles her.

“It gets easier.”

Rey jumps and looks up.

A young woman is standing by her shoulder. She is short and dark-skinned, with thick shiny hair the colour of the night sky arranged in a bun at the nape of her neck. She offers Rey a small darting smile.

“When I first arrived I thought I would never be warm again.”

Rey’s forehead draws into a frown. She wants to ask the woman what she means, where she’s from, how long she’s been here, why she came… but she doesn’t know where to start.

The woman must sense her curiosity, her confusion, because she flashes Rey another soft regard. It lights up her face, warm like Jakku’s sun on a summer evening.

“I grew up on Sevarcos II,” she explains. “A desert planet. Hot and dry. Nothing like D’Qar of course… When I lived there I would have done anything to never see another grain of sand”- The woman lets loose a peal of laughter - “Oh how I hated the sand. Scratchy, hot, and oh, did it get everywhere!”

Rey finds herself nodding, a faint smile on her face.

“I certainly don’t miss the grit of it on my teeth. The taste really is something.”

At this Rey finds herself grinning.

The woman offers her a thermos. When she opens it, the smell of brewed spices fills her nose. She feels her eyes drift shut.

“It’s a herbal tea,” The woman says, “from my home-planet.”

“Thank you,” Rey responds earnestly. It is strangely comforting, that this woman should share a small slice of home with Rey, a stranger she’s never met.

“I’m Rani, by the way,” says the woman.

“Rey.”

The woman nods, “Nice to meet you, Rey.”

Rani turns around to leave, but stops at the last minute. “Ah, wait!” She fiddles around with the large bag at her hip. Finally, she pulls out a blanket and holds it out to Rey.

“There you go. This should help a bit,” she says.

Rey takes it from her hand, wrapping it around her shoulders. It’s warm and smells like sun-heated sand. She closes her eyes and inhales.

“Thank you, Rani.”

“Of course. See you around!”

And with that, Rani lopes off, leaving Rey to gaze at the grey clouds outside.

***

She runs into Rani two days later.

Rey sits in the canteen, mashing balls of sticky bread in the savoury-tender meat stew on her plate. She may dislike the bone-deep wetness of D’Qar, but she cannot deny that the food here is excellent. Fresh and never-not-even-once-dehydrated, it holds layers on layers of taste: cool and refreshing; succulent and sweet; salty and sharp.

Rey rips another piece of soft, fluffy bread with her hands, pushes it into the juice on the plate and pairs it with a crunchy red vegetable. She is raising it to her mouth when the clap of steel-toed boots appears in her periphery and Rani sits down next to her.

She is dressed in navy coveralls, sleeves rolled up to her elbows to showcase muscular forearm. A pair of grease-stained mechanics’ gloves hang from her back pocket. The sight of her in the gear, sweat-damp hair curling at the nape of her neck, makes something swoop low in Rey’s belly.

Her mouth goes dry at the thought, and Rey has to lick her lips.

“Afternoon, Rey,” Rani greets her.

“Hello.”

Rey’s gaze slips from Rani’s arms to the tray she has set down on the table. The plate in front of Rani holds a deep yellow-coloured mash, root vegetables marinating in a thick sauce. It smells deep and earthy, offset by the brightness of sweet spices.

Rey regards it for a moment, then turns to Rani.

“What do you do here?” Rey asks.

“Oh, I’m a mechanic. Fix up X-wing fighters for the Resistance.”

Rey perks up. “Really? I’ve never looked at one of those up-close before. The X-70s have 4 ion drive engines, right? Interesting choice.”

“Yeah, small change from the Incom 4j.4 fusial thrust engines that we had on the X-65s,” says Rani, scooping some of her meal onto a round, flat piece of bread.

Rey hums. “Better thrust-vectoring if adapted with etheric rudders.”

“Definitely. And a higher KUT rating. Makes ‘em fly like a dream. Although the flight control systems are shit. We’re still relying on the Rq8.y flight computer. Thing is older than I am.”

“You could translate data from control surfaces to engine performance if you by-passed the avionics package,” says Rey, “use a complex DHP configuration.”

Rani turns to look at her, eyes wide. “Why have I never thought of that, before?” 

She clasps a hand around Rey’s shoulder. It makes something curl contentedly in the pit of Rey’s stomach. “You’re absolutely brilliant,” Rani says.

Rey quirks her lip at the compliment. “Mind if I take a look, next time you’re working with the systems?” she asks.

“Anytime,” Rani replies, “I’m actually headed back after lunch. Feel free to come along.”

Rey smiles and lifts her chin to point at the full plate in front of Rani. “I’ll wait for you to finish up.”

 

***

 

They head to the hangar side by side. Rani tells her about her childhood on Sevarcos II: of 7 siblings, 12 aunts, and 5 uncles. She tells her about her first ship, a piece-of-scrap she rehabilitated from a junkpile single-handedly, scavenging for parts and experimenting with various materials.

In turn Rey tells her a bit about Jakku. Mostly how the sand-dunes shone under the night sky, how the autumn winds brought opportunity on their tail, of the old woman she always sat next to when polishing scrap-metal at the Outpost. She doesn’t go deeper into her own past, and Rani does not pry. It makes her feel safe, comfortable.

They arrive at a messy workspace near the edge of the hangar. Wrenches, hammers, clips, and screwdrivers litter the area.

“Excuse the mess,” says Rani, “it’s usually a bit better than this.” She nearly trips over a pair of boxcutters as she says so.

Rey quirks an eyebrow and asks, “Is it, really?”

“No, but we can pretend,” Rani grins.

Her smile is contagious; Rey finds her own face lighting up in response. 

They stare at one another for a long moment, expressions matching. The connection thrums with energy. Rey notices every detail of the world around them: the cool hangar walls behind her, the shiny floor underfoot, the sunlight that filters into the space between them, striking dust motes that drift over the light breeze.

Rani’s eyes, too, draw her in: warm and wide; wise and kind. They crinkle at the corners, laugh lines etched into her skin like riverbeds in sand. She is beautiful. 

After a comfortable silence, Rani speaks up. “So. You’re a bit of a hotshot with ships, eh. You can probably help me out with some trouble-shooting.”

Rey pushes off from the wall she’s been leaning against, approaching the work-bench. “Show me what you’ve got.” 

In the end, they spend the entire afternoon together, side-by-side, examining the cracked sublight drives of an X-85 and sharing small anecdotes.

They part at the end of the day, when the sun is low on the horizon. They’re both sweaty and tired, exhausted from a day of hard work.

Happy and sated, Rey walks back to her chambers.

For the first time in weeks, she feels at home

***

Rey has always enjoyed working with her hands: building things from scratch, repurposing old materials, fixing up outmoded, rusted technologies. It is a talent she nurtured on Jakku, a seed watered lovingly and with great patience, each old ship and speeder and piece of gear a small green bud on a growing tree. It is no different on D'Qar, where maintenance is a necessity of life. She works repairs for the Resistance now, doing upkeep for droids and playing around with computer systems. In her spare time, she takes on her own engineering projects, tinkering with spare parts where she can. She is sitting on her bed, doing just that - working on the solid lightsaber in her hands - when a knock sounds on the door and a head peeks into her room.

Rey looks up and grins.

Rani stands at the threshold, a small bag folded in her arms and an answering smile on her face.

“Come in” offers Rey.

She moves her lightsaber to the bedside table, clearing her makeshift workspace to allow room for whatever it is Rani’s brought with her.

Rani bustles in at Rey’s welcome, settling herself at the edge of the cot.

“So,” she says, dumping the wrinkled bag on Rey’s bed, “I noticed you didn’t have much in the way of warmer outfits and I had some old standard-issues laying around.”

Rani undoes the drawstring and eases out a few crumpled shirts and half folded trousers. A ball of socks tumbles out with them, and Rani picks them up before they can roll off the mattress.

“We can find you some new clothes, of course, so that you don’t have to wear hand-me-downs….” Rani fidgets, face slightly flushed. “I was going to pick up some new clothes for you, but I realised I didn’t actually know your size, so I just took some of my old ones… and I probably should have asked if you even wanted new -”

“These are fine. More than fine.” Rey cuts her off, amused.

Rani still appears flustered, and Rey regards her with a growing fondness.

“Well, I got you new socks, at least.” Rani offers, thrusting warm, thick wool into Rey’s hand. Rey takes them, running her fingers over the fluffy material, before laying them next to the proffered secondhand garments.

Her hands reach for the other items, all of which appear gently used, but soft, clean, and good-quality.

“They might be a little short on you,” Rani says, glancing up and down Rey’s frame, “But they’ll do for now."

Rey holds up a pair of trousers, inspecting the rough fabric and thick stitching. They’re tough and hard-wearing, with felled seams and numerous roomy pockets. They feel durable in her hands, the khaki colour familiar.

“Cargo pants.” Says Rani, grinning at Rey’s wide-eyed appreciation.

Rey glances up and smiles.

She paws through the rest of the clothes: another pair of trousers and several long-sleeved shirts, all standard issue but broken-in and comfortable, muted greys and off-whites gentle in their appearance. They hold the faint smell of soap and – beneath that – a scent she can only associate with Rani, sweet like spiced tea and warm like the desert sun.

She’s never owned so many garments before, has never been able to say that real trousers, real shirts – not repurposed strips of fabric – belong to her. It makes a lump form in her throat and, against her will, tears prick in her eyes.

Rey blinks the sharpness from her vision and looks up. She catches Rani’s eyes, which have been roving over her features.

“Thank you.” She says, reaching across the bed to squeeze Rani’s arm. Her fingers curl around Rani’s tricep and stay there of their own accord.

The warmth of Rani’s body radiates outwards, gathering in Rey’s palm and spreading up her arm.

Beneath her hand, Rey can feel Rani’s pulse, the flutter as it speeds up and beats against her skin. Her own heartbeat quickens in response, strong and steady rate replaced by a patter that threatens to leap from her chest and make its home in her throat.

“Are you busy today?” asks Rani.

Rey leans back. “I was planning to visit Finn, my friend.”

“Oh,” Rani responds, offering Rey a fading smile. “I’ll leave you to that.” She gets up and shoots Rey a hopeful glance. “Maybe I’ll see you around at supper?” 

There is something in her expression that Rey cannot name, a quiet longing that has her stumbling over the earnest confessions and unbidden desires whirling in her mind.

“You could come with me.” Rey hurries to say. “Finn is in sickbay,” she explains, “He got hurt on Starkiller Base, when we were destroying the shields. He duelled Kylo Ren, but got slashed…. He’s in a coma now. He-” Rey’s words drift with her thoughts as an image of Finn – kind, wonderful Finn who volunteered to destroy the generator and fought Ren to do so – floods her vision. The memory of him in the snow, unconscious and bloody sends a sharp pain flaring through her.

She focuses back on Rani with a start, realising that her brow has pulled into a frown.

Rani’s eyes reveal a poignant understanding.

Rey shakes her head. “Let me change into these,” she says – holding up a pair of trousers and an off-white ribbed shirt, “and we can go.”

Rani’s face softens, and a gleam lights up her eyes, a burst of fire on a pitch-black night. “I’ll be waiting right outside.” She slips out the door.

Rey slips on the trousers, _cargo pants_ Rani’s voice echoes in her mind, and blouse.

Rani was right about the sizing, she thinks. The shirt is the tiniest bit too short, sleeves riding up when she raises her arms. The trousers fit surprisingly well given their height difference, and Rey can’t help but wonder if Rani had to roll up the hems to keep them from dragging against the floor.

The image sets off something small and light in her chest, and Rey thinks of Rani’s bright vivacity, her gleaming smile. She has not entertained such fleeting fancies since Jakku, too busy running and fighting to pause on thoughts of intimate touches or desirous glances. But here – safe and sound on a Resistance base, surrounded by rebels and survivors just like her – the thoughts spring unbidden to her mind.

Rani is kind and beautiful, funny and smart. And, in her passion for her work, she is dedicated and enthusiastic, a thriving Mazra plant exposed to light. 

And what's more, Rey thinks, Rani gazes at her with the same quiet rapture, the same unconcealed infatuation as Rey reflects towards her. Rey finds her mind drifting, breath shortening at the thought of Rani’s curved lips and strong eyes. It is a challenge not to sail away completely. Maybe, Rey contemplates, she’ll approach Rani with the offer of romantic companionship. 

It would certainly be nice, to move beyond friendship.

Rey turns towards the door, adjusting the trousers on her hips and – at the last second – reaches over to clip the lightsaber to her belt. On further deliberation, she places the screwdriver and other implements in the large pockets at her thighs. She may have use for them at some point, and it is a comfort to have them close and available. She even manages to squeeze a package of biscuits into the back pocket, where they’ll likely get squished the moment she sits. 

All the items fit with room to spare. Cargo pants, Rey decides, are fantastic.

 

Rani is waiting for her outside, leaning against the wall, when Rey emerges from her chambers.

She runs an appraising gaze over Rey’s new outfit, eyes following the curve of Rey’s waist and skimming over her hips to land on her lightsaber.

“You look good,” she states, “Like you could kick some ass.”

Rey wiggles her eyebrows. “I can do that in any outfit.” She declares.

Rani laughs: “I don’t doubt it.”

Rey smiles back: “Well, let’s go.”

 

***

 

The sickbay smells of antiseptic, cold and clinical. It would not be so bad in any other circumstances, but with Finn in a coma, Rey can’t summon any positive feelings towards the impersonal medical centre. Medical droids putter around, pushing healing equipment and directing patients, and Rey dodges around them, heading straight for the long-term care ward where Finn has been held since the battle on Starkiller Base.

Rani follows her silently. 

They walk into the unit where Finn is being held with little fanfare, and Rey makes her way to the chair at Finn’s bedside.

Finn looks incredibly small, lying on the cold slab in the medical unit. Small and wan, breath thready and thin. Rey takes hold of his hand and begins to speak: “Hello my friend.” 

Her breath stutters momentarily before she presses on: “Remember how I told you how I saw rain for the first time? Water! From the sky! And how I just stood outside for hours and hours while it rained and rained and rained? Well, I’ve got some more stories. They’ve got different types of rain, or they call it different things here – like, today it drizzled a bit, but yesterday it poured. Sometimes it spits or mists. And when the water keeps falling it starts to run all over the landscape – puddles and rivulets and mud… they say it’s flooding. I’ve only used that word to talk about engines, but apparently it originally referred to water!”

Here she turns to face Rani, “I was saying to Rani that it makes me miss Jakku, sometimes. It’s always raining here. It means it’s always grey.”

Rey looks back at Finn. “This is Rani, by the way. She’s my friend.”

Rey clears her throat. “Rani’s amazing. She’s from a desert planet too! Sevarcos II. It’s in the Tamarin Sector.” Rey closes her mouth and looks imploringly at Rani.

Rani gazes at her for a lengthy moment, curious, before realisation dawns. She shifts in her seat to face Finn.

“Hi Finn. I’m Rani. I’m a mechanic with the Resistance…. I’ve heard you’re a ‘big deal’ around these parts.” she jokes. Rey’s lips twitch.

“Rey’s told me a bit about you. I can’t wait to meet you properly, tell you about some of the shenanigans Rey has been up to. Yesterday, she climbed onto the roof of the base to fix up an antenna!”

Rani leans back as Rey hurries to explain the situation, to explain that _of course_ she climbed onto the roof without a harness because how else would they get the reparations done? Rani shakes her head and smiles fondly.

Rey speaks and speaks, telling stories and recounting anecdotes: about the base, about the food, about the weather. Rani stays by her side, occasionally interjecting to add a point.

Rey keeps talking until her throat is sore and the grumbling in her stomach tells her it is time for supper.

She gives Finn’s hand one last squeeze, then lays a gentle kiss at the crown of his head.

“Until next time, my friend.” She says, rising to her feet.

Rani stands up as well, placing a hand on Finn’s shoulder in farewell. “It was nice to meet you, Finn.” She conveys.

Finn, as unconscious as when they first arrived, remains motionless.

Rani turns to Rey. “Let’s go.”

They head for the exit slowly, Rani’s hand offering a steady pressure at the small of Rey’s back. Rey leans into the solid weight. It is warm, reassuring.

When they leave the sickbay, Rani opens her arms – an unspoken offer. Rey buries herself in the hug, tunneling into Rani until she is completely enclosed in her presence. She rests her nose in the crook of Rani’s neck -hair tickling her cheek, heat seeping into her skull- and breathes, long exhales drifting across Rani’s clean skin. Rey feels her mind calming. “Thank you,” she whispers.

She feels the nod of Rani’s head, her muffled response, “Any time.”

They stay like that, bodies flush, the intimacy comforting, a long time.

***

Rey likes sunrises. Even here, where the sun is weak and the mornings clouded more often than not, she rises with the turn of the planet and breathes in the morning light.

Today, the thrum of the Force beats a pulsing rhythm with every sliver of sunlight that spills onto the verdant landscape. She knows she will have to leave soon. R2D2 and BB-8 completed the map a week ago, providing them with an unmistakeable path to Luke Skywalker. But it's only now, 8 days and hundreds of moments later, that Rey _knows_ it's time. She can feel it deep in her gut, a pull and a push that whispers to her, spilling its will into the universe. She's not sure how to feel about her newfound attunement with the Force, the realisation that its tendrils weave into the universe even where she cannot see. It is frightening, and awe-inspiring, and comforting all the same. _It's time,_ the universe sighs. _It's time._

Rey listens. "It's time," she hums, eyes closed and face tilted towards the rising sun. The words ring true when they spill into the cool dawn air. It is time. For what, she isn't sure, but she will find Luke and she will go from there.

But first, she'll find Rani.

***

Rani is sitting in the cafeteria, polishing off her breakfast. She looks up as Rey sits down.

Her gaze scans Rey's face, assessing. Whatever she sees there must be enough, because her eyes soften as she asks, "Come to say goodbye?"

Rey's breath catches in her throat. It is different to hear it out loud. She suddenly does not want to leave, wants to stay here with Rani on D'Qar and its endless water, where they can share evenings debating the benefits of using deflector shields to provide atmospheric speed boosts on light freighters. Wants to learn the shape of Rani's smiles, the throaty grumbles of her morning voice, the recipe to the flat leavened bread they shared the other day. She finds it impossible to tear herself away from the pang of want that strikes her.

But want does not change what is. Rey smiles softly. "To say it's time," she corrects.

Rani does not look surprised. She reaches out and clasps Rey's shoulder, her expression kind. "How about we get out of here? A last walk around before you leave." 

Rey nods. "Let's go."

They head outside, back to the hill where Rey watched the sunrise. It's green, so so green. The hills roll like great dunes of sand, but their slopes are damp and fresh, bearing none of the bitter scratch of sand. Rey is surprised to find she doesn't mind it, likes the coolness in fact. It is so different from Jakku, yet it too has become home.

She reaches out and catches Rani's hand, interlacing their fingers. She feels rather than hears Rani's breath catch in her throat. 

A gentle breeze flutters over them and Rey speaks up, "It's so fresh. Full of life."

The smell of moist earth, rich and sweet, floods into her nostrils. She continues, "Nothing like the desert. That was always sharp."

Rani seems to have recovered, her grip loosening as her thumb begins to trace circles into the back of Rey's hand. She regards Rey steadily.

"It's calm in a different way. There may be storms, but this world is not mercurial like the desert," Rani says. Rey hums her agreement.

"I didn't think I'd like it here at first," Rey says, reminiscing. She quirks a smile. "I still miss it though. Strange, isn't it? I grew up hoping, wishing, clinging to a dream that my family would return for me. I was just positive that it had all been a mistake. And I was alone, just me and the desert, so you'd think the desert would mean loneliness. But instead it's a favourite blanket that no longer quite fits."

She looks at Rani then, at the crinkle of laugh lines at the corners of her eyes, the way her skin glows brown in the early morning light, the kindness in the stretch of her mouth and the slant of her chin. She looks at her and sees the cleverness of her hands and the wonder in her laughs, the intelligence and dedication and devotion she carries like a crown of jewels.

"Can I kiss you?" Rey asks.

Rani smiles. "Of course."

The kiss is soft and sweet and kind. Rey leans in slowly, raising her hands to cup Rani's jaw. She presses her lips to the corner of Rani's mouth and watches as her eyes flutter closed. The next kiss lands on Rani's cupid's bow, the third on her gently parted lips. Rani sighs, nuzzling her face closer to Rey's. Rey kisses her again, more insistent this time. Rani smiles and relaxes into the embrace, moving her hands to caress Rey's arms. Her lips remain soft, but her presence solid. Rani traces the edges of Rey's mouth and this time it is Rey who sighs. Rani tastes like sunshine, like clementines and spicy tea. The kiss is desert sand and rolling green hills. It's perfect and it's _home_.

Rey draws back, hands resting at the crook of Rani's jaw. Rani's own hands remain on Rey, tracing swirling patterns into her skin. Rey wishes she could freeze this moment and wrap it up, wear it like a treasured necklace against her heart.

Rey's hands drift down Rani's neck and ghost over her shoulders, settling at her waist. Their movements slow down, settle into stillness. Rani presses trembling kisses to her cheeks, to her nose, to her eyelids and then pauses, bringing their foreheads together.

They stand there a long time, saying nothing.

Finally, Rey speaks.

"I'll be back," she says.

The moment she says it, the world slides like crystal into focus, a content buzz prickling at her skin. She is confident of this, can feel the truth of the statement deep inside her bones.

Rani looks at her.

"I know."

And what she really means, Rey understands, is "I know." and "Take care." and "I'll be waiting when you get back." all rolled into one. Rey's never been more sure of something in her life.


End file.
